No Refuge

by Greg Elswood

  Halfway to the bathroom, he paused. He heard the door across the hallway close, soft footsteps on the floor outside the apartment, and then a knock on his front door. Jenny. He smiled. What better way to take his mind off such things? He didn’t need to be back at the lock-up early this morning, and Paddy could let himself in if he got there first.

  Michael opened the door and Jenny stood there, barefoot and dressed only in his Killers T-shirt that she’d borrowed last week.

  ‘Ha, ha, way to go, you’re keen this morning,’ she said, and laughed as she looked Michael up and down and stepped forward.

  ‘What are you on about?’ Then he realised, and burst out laughing too. He had answered the door still naked.

  ‘Well, let me join you then,’ Jenny said, her tone playful. She lifted the T-shirt above her head and dropped it to the floor, then stepped backwards to close the door with her bare body. Michael reached for her.

  Even though their relationship had never been based on anything but sex, they surprised each other with the intensity of their lust. Returning to the bed breathless from the living area, Jenny was first to speak.

  ‘My God, Michael,’ she whispered, ‘I don’t know what you put in your tea this morning, but it’s unleashed a beast. Not that I’m complaining, of course.’

  Michael pulled up his pillow and sat back. He lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and exhaled with his eyes closed. ‘I could say the same for you.’

  ‘It’s almost like it’s the end of the world and you’re getting as much sex as you can,’ Jenny said, then tilted her head to one side. ‘You’re not leaving, are you?’

  Eyes still closed to avoid her enquiring look, Michael wondered how she could be so perceptive. He’d have to be careful with this one, keep it simple.

  ‘No, of course not. Perhaps we’re just getting to know what we both want.’

  ‘In that case, why don’t you move in with me? Leave Orla, it’s not like you’ve been with her for long.’ She paused, irked by Michael’s lack of reaction to the idea. ‘I’m serious. How about it?’

  Michael realised he was on risky ground, but decided it was best to play along. After all, it wouldn’t matter in a few days’ time.

  ‘You know, maybe you’re right. Do you really want that?’

  Jenny nodded and beamed at Michael. ‘Absolutely!’

  She took the cigarette from his fingers and placed it in the ashtray, then straddled Michael and put her arms around his neck. ‘I hate being across the landing at night thinking of you two together in this bed, and I’m tired of all this scurrying about behind Orla’s back. I’m not sure how she’s going to take it though.’

  ‘Give me a couple of days to find the right moment to tell her.’ He pulled Jenny in closer and his eyes flashed. ‘She’ll be history in no time, I promise you that.’

  ***

  Orla was relieved to be approaching the end of her shift. Just a few more tables and then she would be finished. She was still distressed by the images of Jacob that kept returning to her, and the thought of what had happened to him. He had clearly been viciously assaulted, judging from his swollen eye and lips and the bruising around his face and chest, and she had been distracted all through breakfast thinking about it. She wondered how he was doing.

  She glanced up and saw Maria approaching. She looked tired. Maybe her search for work yesterday hadn’t gone well, and Orla hoped that she wasn’t too down on herself.

  ‘Hi Maria, how are you this morning?’

  ‘Hi Orla. Great, thanks, although I’m so tired that I almost didn’t get up for breakfast. I found a job yesterday!’

  ‘Oh, that’s great, where is it?’

  ‘It’s just off Shoreditch High Street. At the moment we’re clearing out the place, but I think I’ll also get the job selling the food afterwards.’

  ‘Oh, is it a food store? That’s good, that would be regular work for you.’

  Maria nodded. She remembered that she had promised not to tell anyone about it, but she was excited by the job. Surely there was no harm in telling Orla a little more, as long as she didn’t mention the product.

  ‘There are two men running it. One of them, Peter, doesn’t look very well, which is why they needed my help, but the other one, Martin, he’s really nice. And guess what, he’s already paid me for the first day, so you needn’t have worried about that yesterday. Isn’t that great?’

  ‘That’s good, I’m happy you’ve found something.’

  Maria detected something in Orla’s downbeat tone that suggested she wasn’t paying much attention. She was usually far more enthusiastic, especially when it was good news. ‘Orla, are you OK? You don’t seem yourself this morning.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry Maria. I’m OK, and it is great about your job. It’s just that one of our men was brought in last night after being attacked, and I’m a bit worried about him. You may have seen him here, one of our armed forces guys, Jacob.’

  ‘Jacob? Oh no, I only saw him yesterday. He was on his way here when I was looking for work. Is he OK? Do you know what happened?’

  ‘I saw him when I arrived this morning and he was barely conscious. He has been cleaned up by the doctor, who thinks he’ll be OK, but it’s still worrying. But I can’t see why someone would attack a defenceless and penniless man like that. People can be so cruel.’ Orla finished wiping the table. ‘Anyway, I’m going to call in on him again when I’m done here, before I head off.’

  ‘Do you mind if I come with you?’ Maria asked. ‘I can sit with him for a while if he wants. I don’t have to be at work this morning as we finished late last night.’

  ‘That’s a good idea, I’m sure he’d like that. If you can hold on a few minutes, I’ll quickly clear these things away.’

  With Maria’s help, within five minutes the two women were at the medical bay. But Orla frowned when she saw a policeman outside Jacob’s room. He turned at the sound of their footsteps, smiled at Orla and held out his hand in greeting. He was about the same age as her, tall and wide-shouldered, with an engaging smile and deep brown eyes.

  Orla offered her hand in return. ‘Hello, I’m Orla. Are you here to see Jacob?’

  ‘Hello Orla, I’m Detective Constable Harry Saunders. Yes, I need to speak to him about the attack. I was hoping he’d have come round by now, but he’s been drifting in and out, so I was thinking of going back to the station and returning later.’ He paused and his smile widened. ‘I’ve been expecting you, as I’d heard he mentioned your name, and I’m glad I waited a little longer.’

  Harry shook hands with Maria, but immediately turned back to Orla. Maria smiled to herself.

  ‘How is he, do you know? I only saw him briefly, a few hours ago,’ Orla asked.

  ‘According to Doctor Fernandez he should be OK. She checked his breathing, sight and hearing, things like that, and she was happy enough to leave him in the care of Corinne. You’re lucky to have a qualified nurse here, you know, otherwise I think she’d have wanted Jacob moved to hospital for observation.’

  ‘Oh, that’s great news,’ Orla said, relieved that Jacob’s condition hadn’t deteriorated. ‘But why do you want to speak to him? I wouldn’t have thought an assault on a homeless man would be high on your list of priorities, and certainly not an immediate call out.’

  ‘We’ve had a spate of these attacks recently and we’re keen to find the culprits. It may be the same attackers each time, maybe not, but either way we want to look into it. And if we don’t ask right away, we find that the victims of the assaults, like Jacob, just disappear, and we often can’t find them again. Not that he’ll say much I suppose. Most of them haven’t so far.’

  ‘Can I see him first please?’

  ‘Actually, I thought we could go in together, as he’s more likely to speak to you. You don’t mind asking him a few questions about the attack, do you?’

  ‘Not at all. If he’s awake we can try now, as I don’t have long. I need to get to the crèche.’

  ‘Crèch
e? Do you have children?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Oh no, they’re not my children. I work at a crèche during the day; it’s what pays the bills. I’m only a volunteer here.’

  Harry smiled.

  Corinne wouldn’t let all three of them crowd by Jacob’s bedside at the same time. She agreed that Orla could see him with Harry, as long as he wasn’t disturbed by any questioning, and Maria said she’d wait outside until they had finished.

  When Orla entered, Jacob looked up and smiled, but his smile faltered when he saw Harry following behind.

  ‘Why have you brought the police with you?’

  ‘And good morning to you too, Jacob,’ Orla said. She bent over the bedside to touch his hand. ‘How are you feeling now? We’ve all been worried about you.’

  ‘Splitting headache, otherwise I’m alright,’ he said, but he stared over Orla’s shoulder at Harry, still suspicious of his presence.

  ‘Oh, come on Jacob, be nice. I don’t have much time before I have to go to work.’

  Jacob looked back to Orla and his look softened.

  ‘Don’t worry about Detective Constable Harry Saunders here.’ Orla turned to Harry, who had taken his place on the spare chair next to the door. ‘He has orders from Corinne not to quiz you, and I won’t let him anyway. He will want to ask you a few questions about the attack, but only when you’re well enough.

  ‘But I’d like to know what happened, Jacob. All I’ve heard is that you were brought in last night after being attacked by thugs. Apparently, a parking attendant at the Barbican brought you in. Do you remember?’

  Jacob closed his eyes. ‘So, I didn’t dream about Whoopi, it was her.’

  He looked at Orla, who remained silent while he collected his thoughts. Just when she thought he wasn’t going to continue, Jacob recounted the events of the night before, whispering at first so that only Orla could hear what he was saying.

  ‘There were two of them, but only one was really violent. He was nasty, vicious, you know the sort. They were both drunk, seemed they might have been drinking hard all night. I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s not exactly unusual is it, for someone like me?’

  ‘Did you recognise them Jacob, or can you tell me what they looked like?’

  ‘No, I’ve never seen them before,’ he replied. It was obvious to Jacob that Orla had asked this for Harry’s benefit, and he had no intention of revealing how he had first met Nathan at the City Road Inn. ‘Two guys, both white, in their twenties. The one that did all the punching and kicking, he was clean-shaven, the other had a beard. I can’t remember much else, I was trying to defend myself and it was pretty dark. The Barbican lights aren’t that bright, and it was misty too, so it was hard to make anything out. The last thing I remember is Whoopi’s voice, but that was after the guys had gone and I was well out of it by then. That’s all, sorry.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ Orla said. ‘If anything comes back to you, you can tell us later. But there’s nothing else you can remember now?’

  ‘No, nothing.’ Jacob paused, and then added, as if to himself, ‘He did remind me of Bill, though.’

  ‘Did you say “Bill”? Who’s he?’ Harry asked from behind Orla.

  ‘I thought you weren’t asking any questions,’ Jacob said, but on seeing the reproachful look from Orla, he sighed and continued. ‘I mean Bill Conran. He wasn’t involved last night, but he’s the same type, you know, sneering face and violent ways. Angry with everyone and everything. He also makes sure he has a mate with him for back-up.’

  ‘But who is this Bill, Jacob?’ Orla asked.

  Jacob told Orla about his altercation with Bill at Broadgate the previous morning. When he had finished, Orla shook her head and looked into his eyes. ‘Jacob, I know there are people around like Bill and these other guys last night, looking to pick on others less fortunate than themselves. But most of us aren’t like that, we care and will help fight bullies like them.’

  ‘Really? Well no one helped me yesterday against Bill,’ Jacob said. ‘They all stared and watched as he kicked me. Just another tramp, getting what he deserves, isn’t that what they’re all thinking?’

  The memories of his continual conflict the previous day came flooding back, and he couldn’t stop himself from letting it all out. ‘And who was there helping me last night? Everyone behind their doors, minding their own business. Someone must have heard me being attacked, but no one cared enough to look, did they? I was lucky that Whoopi came along when she did, and at least she did what I wanted.’

  The mood had changed and Orla tried to ease Jacob’s rising anger.

  ‘Please don’t be angry with me. You came to the right place, the Refuge, which is full of people who will help you. And there’s also someone waiting outside who wants to see you, who will be a friendly face for you this morning. You know Maria, don’t you? I think you saw her yesterday on your way here?’

  Jacob nodded. ‘Yes, I’ve met her, although I wouldn’t really say I know her.’

  ‘Well, Maria will come in to give you a little company, as I have to go now. Just do one thing for me, will you? Please stay away from Liverpool Street and that Bill man. He sounds like trouble to me.’ She looked at her watch. ‘But I really must fly or else I’ll be late for work. I’ll try to stop by later if I can.’

  ‘I probably won’t be here,’ Jacob said, before realising how ungracious he sounded. ‘But if I am, thank you, that would be nice.’

  Orla squeezed his hand and smiled as she stood to leave. Jacob smiled back, and the sorrowful expression deep in his eyes told her that he regretted his ungrateful outburst.

  Harry nodded at Jacob, who responded in kind, and followed Orla out. He held the door open for Maria, who entered the room and closed the door behind her.

  ‘Well, he’s a lucky man to have you and Maria, but he doesn’t seem to appreciate it much,’ Harry said. ‘But then I suppose he has had it pretty tough. Sounds like he’s been in a few scrapes in the past couple of days.’

  ‘Yes, most of our long-term homeless are frequently attacked and abused. With the men it often ends up like that, or even worse, so Jacob can probably count himself lucky he doesn’t have any major broken bones, although the rib is bad enough. With the women the abuse is usually more sexual, and the scars aren’t only what you can see on their bodies.’

  She sighed. ‘But at least we manage to get more girls off the streets, whereas the men, especially the ex-servicemen like Jacob, have to fend for themselves.’

  The couple reached the locker room, where Orla turned to Harry and held out her hand.

  ‘Well, it was nice to meet you, Detective Constable Saunders. I guess you have what you need from Jacob, so you won’t be visiting us again.’ She lifted her gaze to meet his.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. I may have to follow up my enquiries here sometime, so you never know, we may meet again. I hope so. But please call me “Harry”, not “Detective Constable Saunders” ... unless, of course, you’re being interrogated.’

  Orla laughed and Harry grinned back.

  ‘If I see you again, Harry, then I’ll try to remember.’ She turned to the locker room and pushed the door open, before looking back over her shoulder to where Harry was watching her.

  Even after she had disappeared from view, Harry stared after Orla for a moment longer, disappointed at the brevity of their meeting. He was determined to find a reason to return to the Refuge, even if he would have some explaining to do at the station.

  13

  Brandon’s alarm went off at the same time every morning, but today he was already wide awake, his head swarming with bugs, codes and other images of his latest version of Proximity. He was certain he had solved it and had tested the program on a few of his own devices last night, but he needed targets for a live test. That was his task for the morning, the excitement and anticipation of which had kept him awake through the small hours. But, despite his sleep deprivation, Brandon leapt out of bed as The Ride of the Valkyr
ies blasted from his alarm, and the loft resonated to its battle-cry and the prospect of another victorious day.

  Brandon wandered into the den to review the overnight market news, but within minutes he gave up. He was too distracted by his visions of malware, computer viruses and secondary infections to concentrate on the news and, after a cursory look at the headlines, decided he could catch up later.

  With his laptop in his satchel, on his way out of the building he waved to the ever-present Elwyn on the reception desk and headed to the testing ground. Brandon had thought long and hard about where to try out his newest version of Proximity. He needed a regular stream of people, enough to see how their devices interacted with each other, but not so many that he couldn’t observe individual secondary infections. A handful of stationary devices would be ideal, as that gave the virus time to install and start replicating. And then it had clicked. Of course, a coffee shop would be perfect, as customers would queue at the counter for their drinks, or sit eating breakfast, while Proximity attacked their gadgets. He knew just the place.

  Gianluca was handing a customer his change when Brandon entered Il Miglior Caffè.

  ‘Buongiorno, Brandon,’ he said in his usual enthusiastic manner, although a quizzical look crossed his face. ‘But this is a little early for you isn’t it, my friend?’

  ‘Hi Gianluca, yes, I guess so, but I couldn’t sleep last night. Too much on my mind.’

  ‘Ah, sorry to hear that. Hopefully you can catch up on your sleep later. Your usual black coffee and cookie to take away?’

  ‘Well actually, no. I think I’ll have it here today and try to catch up on a few things. I have come prepared.’ Brandon held up his satchel. ‘I will take that small table at the back. Same coffee and cookie, though, as I haven’t won the lottery yet.’